Powerless. I can’t think of a better word to describe that gut-wrenching feeling of this past week. Powerless – as in horror we watched the planes crumbling into the World Trade Center. Powerless – as the black billowing smoke became a gray plume of ash rolling through the streets. Powerless – as the fires at the Pentagon burn relentlessly. Powerless – as the stories unfolded of phone calls made moments before death, a final I love you said. Powerless – as numb families wandered the streets of New York City in search of those still missing. Powerless – as we now wonder when and where the next vicious attack will occur. I cannot imagine a time when, as a nation, we have felt as powerless. When we have been left with mouths gaping, hands limp at our side. The unfolding events which will forever change our lives and redefine the psyche of our nation leave us reeling as to how we can, and should, respond. In an effort to regain a sense of power, some, enraged at the atrocity, lash out at the faceless terrorists who sought to destroy what we love; others gather to comfort one another; still others seek to serve, to help in some small way. In the face of death, when gripped by tragedy, we lay hold of one another to find the strength we need ... as we should. Yet the powerlessness remains. But we remain powerless if what was destroyed defines us, as Nancy Gibbs, in her Time article on the abomination of last Tuesday, wrote (Time, Special Report: The Day of the Attack, 9/12/01).If you want to humble an empire it makes sense to maim its cathedrals. They are symbols of its faith, and when they crumple and burn, it tells us we are not so powerful and we can't be safe. The Twin Towers of the World Trade Center, planted at the base of Manhattan Island with the Statue of Liberty as their sentry, and the Pentagon, a squat, concrete fort on the banks of the Potomac, are the sanctuaries of money and power that our enemies may imagine define us. But that assumes our faith rests on what we can buy and build, and that has never been America's true God. How we respond now will determine whether that last statement is true or false. For our nation’s faith has been defined by what we can buy and build, but now, with that overwhelming sense of impotence creating uncertainty as to our true foundation, we must re-evaluate ourselves as a nation. The great sense of dread has created an uncharacteristic but welcomed response from government and media, calling a nation to prayer, to seek answers outside of ourselves. It is in the midst of such inadequacy that we are driven to find a source of power that is greater than even the sum of our collective ability. In what was the bloodiest day on American soil since the Civil War, a modern Antietam was played out not with soldiers but secretaries, security guards, lawyers, bankers, janitors and firefighters. It was a one-sided battle, without the opportunity for defense, sudden, deadly and final ... leaving us powerless. Throughout this past week, I’ve struggled with what to say, desiring to coherently express what we all need to hear. Scripture is replete with passages that give comfort. God’s Word is written not only to help us through suffering, but in the context of suffering. God shouts to us most loudly in misery. God is most near in tragedy. The cross on which His own Son hung is the place where the infinite, the omnipotent God shows his compassion and his love. It is there that we see God. It is not enough for us to be reminded of God’s power in our powerlessness, but we also need to hear once again how God gives power to the powerless, grace to the humble, and mercy to those who confess their desperate need. It is for this reason that I was drawn back to the passage I had selected months ago for this Sunday, for in it we find not only comfort in suffering, but the source of power with which we can respond. It is here that power for the powerless is found.
When we began our study in Acts two weeks ago, I pointed out that a recurring theme in this book is that Christ reigns supreme despite suffering. This is not a history of just what was, but a picture of what is now. In the Gospel of Luke we see what Jesus did for sinners in his humiliation, while here in Acts we read of what Jesus continues to do for us in his exaltation. In light of that we read of tremendous power. Power that, we are reminded in verse 2, takes place in the shadow of suffering, only days after the horrors of the cross. In those final days Jesus spoke with his disciples about two related and important promises: the Promise of a Powerful Kingdom and the Promise of a Powerful Spirit. There is a Promise of a Powerful Kingdom [verses 4-7] The powerful kingdom is graciously given For Jesus and the disciples, the kingdom of God was not a theoretical construct, not a futuristic ideal that would someday come to pass. The kingdom of God is indeed a powerful, present reality. Jesus spent his last days speaking about the kingdom of God. That expanding kingdom is the theme of Acts as the gospel transforms lives. Acts concludes with the kingdom of God as its center. In the final scene of this great unfinished story, we read of Paul, under house arrest, awaiting trial doing what he had always done. While seemingly powerless, "boldly and without hindrance he preached the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ." In order to find power for the powerless, we need to properly understand this kingdom. In order to know how we should think about the horrors of this past week – we need to understand our place in the powerful kingdom of God. What is this kingdom? The kingdom of God refers to "God's sovereign rule in human life and the affairs of history." Our call to worship from Psalm 96 points to this present kingdom as we tell the world that the Lord reigns. In Jesus’ ministry the kingdom of God was near, for the king had come. But we must remember that this kingdom has no national flag, it has no mailing address and does not have a "world headquarters." It is not the property of any one denomination, and no politician can lay claim to it. It is not identified with any one nation, and cannot be summoned by any preacher. Instead, this kingdom, as God's rule, is "not of this world," as our Lord declares. It is a kingdom which bars the great and the powerful and the famous from entering based upon their reputations; and this kingdom bars the self-righteous from entering because of their deeds. But this same kingdom receives little children, tax-gatherers, prostitutes and other repentant sinners, simply through faith in the king. (Taken from "You Shall be My Witnesses", K Riddlebarger)The powerful kingdom is easily misunderstood The disciples’ question is understandably mistaken. When they hear kingdom, they picture a political entity. Where and when the spirit is given, there is the kingdom. Their problem was to misunderstand both the nature of the kingdom and the relation between the kingdom and the Spirit. Notice what was misunderstood: The verb – restore – shows that they were expecting a political and territorial kingdom They thought what once existed will exist once again, that the kingdom would be one of military conquest, of political might. Repairing David’s might would suffice. The noun – Israel – shows that they were expecting a national kingdom. Their thinking was bounded by their own culture, their own kind. They could not see the needs of the world, but only their own personal peace and comfort. The adverbial clause – at this time – they were expecting its immediate establishment. They did not object to the kingdom, but having been already told that they must wait for the Father’s gift of the Spirit, waiting any longer did not seem to be an option. Those same questions and concerns will no doubt arise in the minds of many Christians. Do Tuesday’s events or the possible future conflagration point to an imminent return? Does the sudden sense of powerlessness translate into a true and lasting spiritual revival? Before we are quick to speak in apocalyptic terms or to misunderstand the responses to the past week, we must always careful not to read the Scripture through the lens of current events. Scripture alone may interpret Scripture. We cannot and will never know the date of our Lord’s return. Our focus must be on Christ who reigns today. The powerful kingdom expands in God’s time Jesus’s response is two-fold, first a correction and then instruction. The timetable and agenda of the disciples had to be corrected. It was not for them to know the times or dates. The great church father Chrysostom well observed, "that it is the prerogative of an instructor to teach his disciple, not what he wishes to learn, but what his master sees best for him." That is a difficult lesson for all of us. As God says through Moses in Deuteronomy 29:29, "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever that we may follow all the words of this law." In times like this our minds naturally flow to doubt and defeat. Yet just as we must refrain from interpreting these events as an omen predicting the return of Christ, neither must we see it as a defeat for the kingdom of God, as some tremendous omen of God’s displeasure. It is misguided to interpret specific tragedy as an indicator of God’s curse, to look to these events as the means by which we can determine God’s withdrawal of his providential care. To do so is dangerous and misguided. Scripture tells us all we need to know about our standing before our God. Tragedy and disease should well get our attention, but not to interpret God’s stance toward us. Rather these events should serve to show us that we can ill afford to trust in ourselves, that we must instead turn from sin and place our trust in God’s only provision, Jesus Christ. In all this we can have great confidence in a loving Father, who, through calamity, sets that which will happen by his own authority. Neither the stratagems of the wicked nor the designs of the righteous will alter God’s will, but instead both are used by God for God’s own glory. While we should not concern ourselves with the when and where questions, we are told how. The God who promises a powerful kingdom provides a powerful Spirit. Between Pentecost and parousia, resurrection and return – our focus is to be on the expansion of God’s kingdom through the preaching of the gospel. What Acts begins, we continue. There is a Promise of a Powerful Spirit [verse 8] The Spirit provides the power "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you." This is Jesus's last word to the disciples before his ascension, and it constitutes the theme for the whole of Acts. That power, supernatural force, is seen repeatedly throughout Acts. Neither the dreadful explosions that rocked our world this past week nor the tremendous power which lies in store for those who aided those terrorists holds a candle to the power described here. This "power" (or in Greek, dynamis, which is the name which Alfred Nobel borrowed from the Greek to call his new explosive, dynamite last century) far exceeds any earthly power conceived by any human being. The power of God, which created the world in six days, which sustains our every breath – is the power that God pours into our lives. This power is not for our destruction, but rather to make the powerless powerful. As amazing as that power which heals the lame man in Acts 4, frees Peter from prison, and raises Eutychus and Dorcas from the dead, those are just the most dazzling illustrations of God’s power at work in God’s people. But those are but signs of God’s power, not the extent of it.Some of you may unwarrantedly conclude that as a Presbyterian I don’t believe in miracles; as a modern American, I reject out of hand God’s power to be supernaturally at work. To conclude that would be a mistake. Yet, I grow weary at people excited over the supernatural that fades with time, while yawning at the supernatural which endures. It has been said that "if the Holy Spirit was withdrawn from the church today, 95 percent of what we do would go on and no one would know the difference. If the Holy Spirit had been withdrawn from the New Testament church, 95 percent of what they did would stop, and everybody would know the difference." (Alan Redpath CT, 29,18). If what we do, if what we say in the light of last week’s terrorist attacks, has any lasting, life-changing power, it will only effect real change if we speak words which point our hearers to Christ, who alone changes lives. The Spirit provides the push The power God provides by the indwelling Spirit is power with a purpose. A number of years ago on the "Merv Griffin Show" a bodybuilder came on as a guest. As he entered with his huge muscular frame, the crowd went crazy with applause as he flexed his muscles, walking over to take his seat to be interviewed. Merv's first question seemed to catch the bodybuilder off guard however; he asked him "What do you use all those muscles for?" A bit puzzled, the bodybuilder simply stood up and flexed his muscles again while the crowd again applauded wildly. As he sat down Merv again asked him, "What do you use all those muscles for?" Again with a puzzled and somewhat frustrated appearance the bodybuilder stood up and flexed his muscles once again to a cheering audience. Merv however was undaunted and insisted a third time, "What do you use those muscles for?" The bodybuilder was stumped and bewildered at Merv's constant question. The man was all power, but with no purpose! While he could impress the audience, there was no application for all his power. The purpose for the power of the Holy Spirit is simple – to witness. The word in Greek here is martyria, from which we get martyr. But in the first century the meaning of the term is not one who dies for what they believe in, but rather one who speaks that which they know, what they have seen. The English word used here has the same meaning. "Witness" comes from the English word "wit", to know. The promise here is for the Spirit to provide those disciples with the power to speak and to write that which they had seen. That which we share is not what we immediately experience, but the truth of the Gospel, which is mediated by those who were there. This makes evangelism Word-based, grounded in God’s Word. We cannot speak as witnesses as the Apostles since we were not present, nor should we of our own experience, for that is not trustworthy. Rather we speak the apostolic witness and there we have the promise of life-changing power. This passage is one that is often used with regard to missions. It was for this reason that I had second thoughts about using it as my text this morning. But as I pealed away my own preconceptions, I realized that this passage is perfect for today. Many people jump immediately to application when it comes to this passage, skipping the all important interpretation step. This promise is not immediately universal, but set in a context of the risen Christ speaking to those Apostles who were to be the foundation for the Church. The coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and the power that came with it was theirs, not necessarily a transferable event for all believers in all times. What is more, the place of their witness is geographically established. What we read here gives us a table of contents for Acts: Jerusalem is told of Christ in Acts 1-7, Judea and Samaria in Acts 8-12 and then to the ends of the earth in Acts 13-26 as Paul ends up in Rome. It may be a nice sentiment to speak of moving from our own Jerusalem’s out to the ends of the earth, but that is not what is said here. Acts is the record of that power of the Spirit going out. That power still is with us as we move within the realm of the Gospel today. That plan was thoroughly carried out in their generation. It continued since then. Tertullian, writing in AD 200, said this to the Romans: "We are but of yesterday, and we have filled every place among you – cities, islands, fortresses, towns, market places, the very camp, tribes, companies, palace, senate, forum – we have left nothing to you but the temples of your gods." How do we apply this truth to this past week? As the numbness of this past week gives way to anger and frustration, as the sense of powerlessness is replaced by demonstrations of power and resolve, be confident in where true power is found. It is not found in successful strikes against those who dared to harm us, as correct as those retaliations may well be. It is not found in a greater degree of civil unity and common purpose, as wonderful as that is. True power, power that endures and transforms, is found only in the indwelling work of the Holy Spirit. That power comes into the lives of those who have confessed their sinfulness and, turning from sin, look to Christ who bore their sin on the cross. There where God’s wrath is poured out, mercy is found, eternal life is granted, and power is bestowed. Through the coming weeks we will grapple with grief for the lives destroyed, our sense of security violated. But when faced with the horrible tragedies of life, our only hope, our only confidence can be found in the promise of power, power which is found not in a kingdom created by man, but that which is from God. Power is found not in political resolve or military might, not in seeking to restore an earthly kingdom, but to welcome with open arms the Spirit of God indwelling the people of God, comprising the kingdom of God. The story of the final hymn is no doubt familiar to many of you. It was written in response to horrible tragedy. Horatio Spafford lost all he owned in the devastating Chicago fire in 1871. He, his wife and four daughters, however escaped unharmed. Desiring rest for his family and with an eye on work in England, he sent his wife and daughters ahead on the Ville du Havre, expecting to follow a few days later on another vessel. But on November 22 the ship was struck by another vessel and sunk in 12 minutes. Of his family, only his wife survived, cabling her husband the message, "saved alone". Horatio followed a short time later and near the spot where the vessel went down, he began to pen these words. While our peace was fractured and our serenity was shaken, we too must affirm this great truth, that it is well with our soul. Our hope is not in our own security, but in the truth of the third verse: "My sin – O the bliss of this glorious thought! / My sin, not in part, but the whole, Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more; / Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!"
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